


Spring Cleaning

by MFLuder



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Cleaning, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 15:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFLuder/pseuds/MFLuder
Summary: Sam's had enough of the power bar wrappers on the floor.





	Spring Cleaning

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted May 30, 2008, on [my DW](https://mf-luder-xf.dreamwidth.org/183631.html).
> 
> Inspired by [this thread](https://auburnnothenna.livejournal.com/178501.html?thread=2977349#t2977349).

Once Caldwell and the Daedalus touched down and large boxes – suspiciously labeled INDUSTRIAL CLEANER – were transferred onto Atlantis, Colonel Carter called a meeting of all department heads as well as the kitchen staff and the guy John had appointed head of supply closet duty. Sanders had a more official title, of course, but John could never remember it.

As the colonel stood up to address them all, John shifted back in his chair to shoot a questioning glance at Rodney, who simply shrugged his shoulders and went back to nervously eying Caldwell's smirking face in the corner.

“Attention!” Carter called out.

Everyone's eyes turned to her. She was smiling. But it wasn't her normal gentle and friendly smile. This was more…mischievous. John's trigger finger started twitching.

“I'm sure you're all wondering why it is I've called this meeting. I have good news.”

“You found something in the database?” Rodney perked up from his grimacing slouch. “ZPM?”

John rolled his eyes, knowing Rodney was salivating at the mere thought.

“No. Something much better.”

“What could be better than a ZPM?” Rodney asked, half confused, half looking down his nose at the very idea that something could possibly outstrip the benefits of a ZPM.

“Ok, maybe not better,” Carter amended, frowning, before placing her hands on her hips and smiling again. It was then John noticed her braided hair was pinned and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Uh-oh. Rodney wasn't going to like this. “Now, some of you might have noticed the, uh...state of things around here lately. And while I realize we're often so busy, we don't have time to think about candy wrappers that miss the decomposers, or dust piling up in the corners, we've got a lull. And Colonel Caldwell here, has been kind enough to bring us, well. Basically, the entire cleaning section of a Sam's Club.”

A few people had caught on by then and were murmuring to each other in doomed tones.

“It's time for a little spring cleaning of Atlantis!” Sam finished. John noted she was a little too enthused; either overcompensating or she was one of those people who cleaned when upset. His mother had been like that.

Behind him, Rodney spluttered. “Spring cleaning? Are you joking?! Why do you need us here, then? Isn't that a job for your-” he thrust his chin in John's direction, “Marines?”

“Gee, thanks, McKay,” he drawled.

“No.” Carter held her ground, arms crossed over her chest. “This is everyone's job. Be honest, this place is a sty. And since Atlantis doesn't employ a cleaning service, you're just going to have to deal with it.”

Folding his own arms across his chest, Rodney sat back, a smug smirk slashed across his face. “Why _don't_ we employ a cleaning crew? My scientists don't need to waste their precious time on chores. Besides, the labs are clean.”

Radek spoke up, pointing a finger at his fellow scientist. “You forget the coffee cups, McKay.”

“Those aren't mess. They're...back up. Ambiance.” Rodney looked defensive. “Couldn't we just have the Athosians come in and clean and we could pay them with a few goats or something?”

“I do not believe they would appreciate such a task when they did not make the mess,” Teyla said, tone even but with a downturn to her mouth. John cringed internally; Rodney was going to get his ass beat worse than usual the next time Teyla put him through a sparring exercise.

“Besides, we don't have any goats. No, think of this as a team-building exercise.” Carter touched the Ancient smart board equivalent and a few lists appeared.

_Mission: Pine-Sol_ , John thought to himself.

“Team-building? Seriously. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”

“I don't particularly care whether you find it dumb or not, Rodney. Think of it however you have to, the point is, no one is going anywhere until this city is spotless. Or at least the areas we work and live in.”

A chorus of groans went up. John leaned back, amused.

“That's right!” she said over the sound, “No gate activity until every last power bar wrapper is in the trash, your rooms are dust-free, and the windows are sparkling.” She paused. “There will be one team suited up and ready to go in case of emergency. But as for the rest of Atlantis, it is pick up time. Now, I've divided you into--” 

Rodney jumped in to interrupt. “That one team. That wouldn't be mine, would it?”

_His_ , John thought, inwardly rolling his eyes again, unable to control the snort that slipped out.

“Yes, yes, Colonel I'm-The-Almighty-Team-Leader. Keep your thoughts to yourself unless they're actually useful.”

“No, McKay.” Carter’s grin was positively evil, now. “It will not be Colonel Sheppard's team on stand-by. Major Lorne's team instead--”

John could practically hear the mental _yes!_ Lorne thought, though outwardly he refrained himself to a small smile and nod of acknowledgment as he continued to stand at casual attention in the back of the room. He'd have liked to stick his tongue out at the major, but figured that wasn't professional behavior for a man of his rank.

“--Will be on stand by. So that means you are assigned to lab duty. And by lab duty, I mean all of them. The botanists are on waxing duty.”

“You expect me to clean up dirt? Like, honest to god soil?”

“I do. Alright, so if there are no more complaints,” she shot a quelling glare in Rodney's direction who stared at her fish-mouthed, “let's get down to business.”

\---

Two days, seven hours, and thirty-four minutes later, Atlantis sparkled like...like a sparkly thing, and sure enough, it smelled overwhelmingly of lemon Pine-Sol.

John was half lying on his bed with one untied boot on the floor when Rodney walked in at T plus two days, seven hours, and thirty-six minutes. He was too tired to move or even laugh at Rodney. Or the person he assumed was Rodney as no one else would just barge in with no more than a cursory door chime. It was hard to tell, though. Even his hair was covered in something resembling a shower cap.

One yellow-gloved hand moved up to tug down a face mask for a cautious sniff. Then the hand quickly ripped it off.

“Oh, thank God. Yours is the first place I've been that doesn't smell like it’s trying to kill me. I mean, what was the SGC thinking sending lemon-based cleaning products to Atlantis? They know I'm allergic!”

John took enough effort to lift an eyebrow. “You do realize that stuff doesn't have actual lemon in it. It's just scented.”

“Still! Could be like something packaged at a factory that also has nuts—one might slip in!”

At least that was what John thought he said; his voice was muffled as he stripped some kind of special lab coat off over his head at the same time. Next came the gloves. Then goggles. There was quite a pile on John's floor by then.

“You do realize you have your own room? Why don't you go change there? I just cleaned.”

Rolling his eyes, Rodney replied, “We _all_ just cleaned. Your room was closer.” Then, glaring reproachfully, he continued on. “It's going to take Atlantis days to get the smell out of the city. Even if I don't die from allergies, I'm sure I'll asphyxiate from the oppressing stench.” He moved and sagged onto John's desk chair, putting his head in his hands. “I have never cleaned so many walls in my life. Actually, I don't think I've ever cleaned a wall.”

Managing to sit up, John rested his elbows on his knees and smiled. “Well, at least we won't have to do it for awhile. Probably not until next spring.”

“Next--!” Rodney shouted, though almost half-heartedly. Yelling at his minions for two days straight to _clean faster!_ must have worn him down. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Lorne and his team are on kitchen duty for the next month. And,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I added a couple of extra inventory rounds for them to do, too.”

“Well, that...that does make me feel better. Though not by much. Although Parrish nearly being sucked down the third floor toilet is going to be quite the story to tell. Even I didn't know they had such good pressure.”

John chuckled at that. It had taken all three scientists near Parrish trying to yank him out of it before someone noticed the flush mechanism had gotten jammed. One good wiggle and it had spit the botanist right out again.

“You know, the worst part had to be Caldwell watching us the whole time. Who appointed him Nazi cleaning lady, anyway? His penchant for pointing out tiny smudges missed really grated on my nerves after the first, oh, I don't know, _hour_.”

Privately, John agreed, but decided it behooved him not to say anything bad about a superior officer while the man was still on base.

Instead he replied with, “But the water fight has to outweigh that. How did Carter manage to stick all the women on window duty?”

Rodney's face broke into a pleased smile. “Stroke of genius on her part, I'd say. It was like right out of a movie when Esposito threw that first sponge. Clinging tops, soap bubbles...”

Both sat there for a moment reimagining the scene. Then with a grin, John stood up. “You hungry?”

“Starved,” moaned Rodney. “Did you know, I have only eaten sandwiches in the past two days? All that new food like boxed potatoes and frosting and muffin mix, and I was stuck with sandwiches made by the Marines because the kitchen staff was too busy elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I know. I ate it, too.” He clapped Rodney on the shoulder. “Let's go, then.”

Motivated by the thought of food, the scientist practically leapt to the door, reaching down to grab his face mask on the way.

“Rodney?”

“Hmm? Come on, chop, chop.” Rodney tapped his foot.

“Get your dirty laundry off my clean floor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow and chat with me [on tumblr](http://mf-luder-xf.tumblr.com)!


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